That Monday my mom arrived sometime in the late afternoon. She brought all kinds of stuff with her- as she usually does. Often it's clothes for the kiddos, and this time was no exception. But she also brought stuff for me, including; a tray, plasticware, and a fluffy pink bed-jacket. I know. I didn't get it either.
So, the tray was in case I was bedridden and she needed to bring me meals in bed. Fair enough. The plasticware was in case I was so out of it on pain medication that I would continually knock things over or drop them (?!). So I guess that way dishes wouldn't constantly be breaking on the floor of my bedroom. And the bed-jacket was in case I was freezing in the hospital.
I think my mother spends too much time with old people.
Not that my mother is old. She's not. But my grandmother is alive and kicking at 92 and my mother visits her a lot at her retirement community. She visits so often that she has become friends with other people in the building. They all know and love my mom. My mom takes good care of my grandmother.
So I can't help but think that she picked up these things based upon what someone 40 years older than myself would need after they came home from surgery. What my grandmother might need, or one of her neighbors. Whatever. I packed the bed-jacket in my backpack. Who knows? Maybe I would be freezing in the hospital.
I didn't pack much else though. My backpack only had the bed-jacket, clean underwear and socks, my phone, a book, the iPad, and my toothbrush and toothpaste. They really discourage you from bringing too many things to the hospital. I also had a manual breast pump in a bag, in case I got engorged while I was there overnight.
I was as ready as I'd ever be.